Last night I ended things with Ethan because, among other things, he wasn't what I was looking for. I wouldn't write about it here, except that what should have been a relatively smooth break-up turned into an adventure.
In almost every French class at Columbia we've discussed immigration and colonialism and blah blah blah. Well. I now have first-hand experience with the blah blah blah bit of it. (You can't wait to find out how this relates to Ethan, can you?)
Well. Turns out, Ethan isn't actually named Ethan. Nor is he 25. Nor is he French. Turns out, Ethan moved to France from Tunisia three years ago on a tourist visa and then stayed. Illegally.
So that was an interesting experience.
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